Mars Bringer of War
by Playing Passerine
Summary: (something of a sequel to Fighting Mars, rather unintentionally) Firenze is forced to make a difficult decision. How can a seer excercize free will? Do the stars determine what will happen, or only report our choices back to us? Can a stargazer take actio


Mars, Bringer of War

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Mars is bright tonight. Unusually bright. The thought echoed through Firenze's head like a strain of music, impossible to dismiss, or even ignore. Like a headache, it was eternally throbbing in the back of his skull. He stood alone, looking at the sky. Or rather, glaring at it. The slow dance of the stars was as graceful as ever. But more and more he had found their sureness arrogant. Irritating. It was like a burr caught in his flanks, a small but constant annoyance these past years.

Mars had slowly grown more and more brilliant. It shone like a red carbuncle, a distant and malevolent gem. _Mars, Bringer of war. Is he a warning? Can such evils be defied? Or is it a fait acompli? Will he wax larger and brighter than ever, as if gorged on the blood that is to be spilt? Are the stars sure? Perhaps if we act, it is all already part of their plan? Whose plan?_

He tossed his blond head, human torso rippling in an equine fashion. His every thought had become heresy, his contact with humans poisoned his peace.

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But is it wrong to question? To change? Humans know so little, but their wars influence everyone. And it is arrogance to assume we know all…Some things cannot be known. Our own roles? His thoughts trailed off, and he paced. _Does free will exist, or do humans only believe in it to make their short lives worth living? _A slow prance, elegant despite his internal turbulence. Broken leaves and needles on the ground gave off a calming aroma, a gentle incense raised by his hooves. _How can they learn when their colts lack a teacher?_ He pawed the ground, worrying about the consequences. His own herd had stopped trusting him the night he saved the Potter boy, neigh on five years ago. _How different would things really be?_

Pale head raised back to the silken sky. Blue eyes skimmed the stars, looking for familiar faces. And reading what they had to tell him in their primeval calligraphy.

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An answer, perhaps. But will I have any part to play in this? The more distant planets were also shining, not so brightly as Mars, but not to be forgotten. _Uranus, the Magician. And Neptune, the Mystic. The two are so very close right now. A Double pearl, rare and beautiful . An alliance, perhaps…_

Firenze thought back on that meeting, the catalyst in his present troubles. He had met Hagrid in the forest, the half giant on his way to work on family business. _He has a good heart, I esteem him greatly for his love of all beings… But just once I wish he would give up on something. His dragon was safer… Blood is blood, but he should not spill his own for the bond. He will not succeed, and will not listen. He does not listen to the stars. _Firenze cocked his head, ears pricked, though no unusual sounds reached his ears. Only the normal crunches and cries of the wood. It was as though a thought hovered around him, begging to be heard. A sudden flash of near illumination came and was lost as suddenly as a lighting strike. _Perhaps there is wisdom in his innocence. He need not bend himself to the will of others if he does not see… But that way is folly! We must know, it is what we live for… _Again Firenze paced, smooth muscles rolling under silvery pale palomino coat. His hindquarters twitched, his tail flicked. But there were no flies around. The matter was nothing so simple.

He had agreed to speak with the Headmaster, as Hagrid had asked. Hagrid was his only friend, he owed him that much. _Friend? Centaurs do not need friends. We have the truth, and see into destiny, that is all we need. Isn't it?_

Dumbledore's speech was almost laconic, not the eloquent and formal speech Firenze had expected. _He was wise enough to know that we do not react to long winded speeches with the same fervor as humans. It was in plain terms that he explained how others outside the school were trying to control what the foals… children, learned. Their divination teacher had been dismissed. He needed someone who would teach the truth. And he believes that I could give them that. Should I teach them? A species not known for its ability to see beyond the future they want to force upon the world? A species known for wanton destruction? _Firenze had nodded politely to the headmaster, and asked for some time to think. Two pairs of blue eyes studied one another, matching saphires glittering in the dark. _One day. One day to think,_ _one night to divine._ The headmaster agreed immediately. Not being refused on the spot was enough to bring him hope. 

Firenze had watch the school's headmaster walk away. 

An old, old man. With long hair the silver white of the moon, and a very dark red robe. Darker than Mars, darker than blood. Almost black in the eternal night of the forest. The robe had been embroidered with constellations in golden thread. Firenze had briefly wondered if the headmaster chose it specially for this meeting. The embroidery had been so detailed that he was able to pick out Sagittarius aiming at Libra in the late summer sky. _A centaur, the scales of justice. Balance. A much more subtle hint?_ Firenze had to confess his respect for the headmaster. Dumbledore was a man who radiated wisdom and power. A good man.

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The very image of Uranus. An alliance then, between the Magician and the Mystic, it is to be. It is written. Firenze remembered the day, years ago, when he had sworn he would no longer be a silent witness. It was time to honor that oath. _I will teach these young, even if they learn little, they shall at least attempt the journey. I will help them. It is possible to follow the stars and influence the future. It must be. _

"It is written in the stars. As all is."

Silence. They did not even reply anymore, did not even murmur amongst themselves. The verdict was clear.

They were not angry, they were murderous. Firenze had thought humans and giants were the only species who wantonly killed their own kind. He was forced to reappraise this supposition as Bane lashed out at him. His tangled black hair, which had once struck Firenze as austere and fitting for a star gazer was now frightening. Bane looked more like a bear or werewolf than a centaur. His dark eyes flashed with an almost insane hate that rivaled any human.

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All species are connected. And all suffer from the narrow-mindedness of many. 

The inspiration came to Firenze at a poor time. His momentary pause gave Bane just enough time to turn and kick out with both of his hind legs. "We. Do. NOT. Interfere." One hoof struck Firenze squarely in his chest, the other caught his right arm and tore a gash above his elbow. Blood ran down his arm, mingling with blood to make his fingers slick. Firenze fought back halfheartedly. These were his own kind, he could never hurt them intentionally. Even when they were wrong. 

Raising his left arm to ward off another blow from Bane, he kicked out a kind leg to trip up another attacker. He lost himself in a flurry of tails and hooves, with the occasional fist. A kick at his pastern hurt more than he thought possible. Whirling around to seek that particular attacker Firenze saw nothing but a flash of long white tail. "Bielbog?" Firenze whinnied in pain and frustration. _Violence makes us no better than humans. It clouds our vision. Where is the difference now?_

Movement towards his left caused him to spin around. Too quickly. The trees swam before his eyes, the leaves shook menacingly, reaching out to him. Then the world righted itself again.

A quiet redheaded centaur pawed the ground nervously, like a predator on his first hunt, a little shy, not sure what to do. Not sure if he really wanted to do this. His entire body quivered with tension and confusion, freckles standing out against his pale skin. Firenze remembered this one's indecision years before. Hope flared in his heart. "Ronan…" His appeal died as it left his lips. The chestnut centaur had gathered his courage and galloped into the fray, punching Firenze in the mouth.

Tired, surrounded, Firenze licked the blood from his lips and locked his legs. _I will not kneel. I can deny them that. I will._ His eyes sought out Uranus and Neptune. _It is the truth. There will be an alliance. There will._

He heard a crashing noise behind him, seemingly to his right. It was a sound unlike that of angry hooves, or the blood rushing in his ears like the voice of the sea. 

"Get outta 'ere!" A familiar bellow. "Leave 'im alone!" 

They were leaving. He saw a rainbow of tails—black, brown, grey, red, and white—moving away. A huge hand supported his good arm. He leaned into Hagrid gratefully, unable to voice his thanks.

__

The die is cast.

Outside Hagrid's hut, Firenze waited for the coming of the dawn. The eastern sky was already turning a slight grey, warm with the promise of sunrise. A very slight star was visible in the east. _No, not a star._ Firenze gingerly lay down, sore and tired. The bandage on his chest was stiff and scratched his skin. His body ached, but his head remained turned to the east. He had ever so briefly caught a glimpse of a very old and sorely missed friend. _Morningstar, Venus. Bringer of peace. Show us the path._


End file.
